


Letters Sent

by Kit, PeroxidePirate



Series: KelxAlanna [1]
Category: Tortall - Pierce
Genre: Epistolary, F/F, Round Robin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-05
Updated: 2010-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-08 18:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit/pseuds/Kit, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeroxidePirate/pseuds/PeroxidePirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of letters between Alanna and Kel, featuring epistolary smalltalk, not-quite-lecturing, philosophies of correspondence, rambling, honesty, reference to Raoul of Goldenlake in a dress, and gratuitous use of the strikethrough tag. Co-written with the wonderful Kitty Ryan, for the Goldenlake Smackdown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If the letter is from Kel, I wrote it. If the letter is from Alanna, Kit wrote it -- find her on fanfiction.net, where she's known as Kitty Ryan.

Dear Lioness,

~~At the risk of sounding obsessed,~~ It was a pleasure to work with you this winter. I feel that I learned so much from you, and to hear that you also admire me... well, I don't really know what to say. Except, thank you.

This post I have now, I'm sure you know, is in the middle of nowhere. It's not the easiest assignment I've ever had, but it's far from the hardest (that honor still goes to the first one, during the Scanran War).

How are things on the opposite side of Tortall? I know that you must be busy with your duties, as I am with mine, and that you have other people to write -- your children, your husband, your father -- as do I. But I think of you, every so often, and wonder if you ever think of me.

Your friend,  
Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alanna answers a letter; is bemused by epistolary smalltalk.

Lady Knight,

Come now. “Your middle of nowhere” is my Great Southern Desert. You’ll get used to sand in your drawers after the first month or so. You have youth, still, and warmth, which is far more important. You were the only good thing about that last winter.

Does that answer part of your question?

I am unsure if your “wondering” about my thinking of you is courteous or coy. I should hope that by now you know better than to be either of these things with me. Yes, I have other people to write to, but they are old victims, used to the scrawls of a wife or mother who quotes parts of their own letters back at them because she has nothing new to say!

It is good to hear from you (see from you? The conventions of letter writing are weird, hollow things), and if you, “from time to time”, have any more brief, businesslike missives in you—that still make me smile, when I’m up to my eyeballs in the paperwork that’s been following me around since I hit my mid-thirties—they would be appreciated.

~~Of course I think of you.~~

Keep well.

Your friend,  
Alanna, PS&amp;Ol


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kel attempts to explain her philosophy on correspondence.

  
Dear Alanna,

I hope I didn't offend you with my choice of words – I'd forgotten you have ties here. Did you come to love all the sand? Or did you love it from the start, on account of the warmth? (Yes, I'm teasing a bit. Is that allowed?) It is too bad that I got sent south, and you north, when I am missing the mountains and it sounds (or do I mean 'looks'?) as though you would be happier here, sand and all. But, well, we go where we're needed, and the crown needed a warrior-healer-mage _there_ and a bruiser on a horse _here._

I also didn't mean to be coy. I don't think I could if I tried, with you or anyone else, though it might make you laugh if I attempted it. It seems to me that coyness is something for ladies with soft hands and dimples. And if I'm courteous, why shouldn't I be? Like chivalry, it's part and parcel of being a knight. I wouldn't write you solely out of courtesy, though, and I am glad to get your letter in return. But there have been times enough that I've enjoyed ~~spending time~~ working with people I would not bother to correspond with later. I worried that I might be that sort of person to you.

If my first letter was brief, I put it down to two things: the first is courtesy, and I won't say anything more about that, as I don't think you'd like it if you thought I was lecturing. The second is the fact that the mail carrier was about to leave, and I wanted to send the letter this month instead of next. You know the saying – the Southern Desert is great, Tortall's mail system is not. I'm glad it made you smile, all the same (the letter, not the mail system).

Keep well, yourself.  
Kel


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alanna muses on Kel's philosophy, indulges in non-sequiter.

  
Kel,

You’re right. Coy suits you about as well as Raoul suits a dress. (Yes, I have seen it—I consider it proof that some scars are not visible marks.) As for chivalry, Kel. Well. That’s the one banner you can wave at me that I won’t find some obstreperous means of tearing down. And you do not lecture, quite. You remind me of more gallant times. It’s hard to be gallant behind a desk. Gary is fit to see me tied.

I was startled, is all. It has been some time since you left ~~me ~~the city, and the others who write are far less interesting. Though, now the triplets are half fledged, Aly finds herself writing a lot more than she ever used to—probably just an exercise in using words that don’t end in, “No, drop that!” or, “Caw!” but for once I’m not complaining. ~~Much.  
~~  
The Bahzir lands are special for me for more reasons than this bit of paper could ever hold. Everyone I love has found me there at some time or another.

I’m glad our work together seems to have impressed you as much as it always did me.

Until you win another battle against the messengers and mail,

Your friend,  
Alanna.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kel rambles and (possibly) feels a bit sorry for herself.

  
Dear Alanna,

You might accuse me of flattery (attempted flattery?) when I say this, but Lioness, you are still gallant. You could have chosen to hole up on your estates – as most nobles would have – and devote yourself to being a grandmother. Instead you are still serving the crown, even if you're no longer King's Champion.

Besides, I remember you spending as much time away from your desk as at it, chasing down information in one way or another. And didn't you say the Prime Minister needed someone to shake him out of complacency and remind him he doesn't know everything? That does us all a service.

Your mention of Aly made me laugh. My letters with Yuki are much the same. They are mostly smudged or crumpled because a child interrupted at the wrong moment. Half the time, they are full of anecdotes endearing or sympathy-inducing; the other half, it's clear that she's reveling in any chance to communicate with a like-minded adult. And knowing my life is something so different, I am always half ~~jealous~~ wistful and half relieved.

Now it sounds like I'm feeling sorry for myself, and that won't do. This is a good post – not overwhelming, but not boring, either. ~~Tedious, maybe~~ But my soldiers are army regulars, and even the officers are less inclined to accept the friendship of a knight – especially a lady knight – than my old comrades in the Own. Some of them will come around, I'm sure of it, but it takes time. For now, the friends I am closest to are those far away (and I appreciate your letters more than I can say).

Until next time,  
Kel

P.S. My lord in a dress? And you don't see fit to tell the rest of that story?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alanna is tetchy. Or is that sweet? No. Tetchy.

  
My dear,

I think it was the desert where I was persuaded that perhaps, at some point, offspring would no longer be referred to as, “uncomfortable alien spawn!”, so there might be something in the severely limited water. Wistful, sometimes, can get very un-wistfully shoved down your throat—it’s your job to know what to do with it. Not necessarily ~~now~~, as I think it would be someone too good to be fit for human consumption who would even make you consider leaving a post, and then, because you considered it, you would stay there beyond your original measure, to compensate—but in time.

And perhaps I project my own emotions somewhat—easy to do, with the great tangled lot of them. Being a Lone Knight, following Raoul’s old list, gave me a different set of priorities.

I’m not going to wish warfare upon you, being cheerfully hypocritical in my old age ~~and aware of what held you in Corus all those months, even if the warm weather has made your joints forget~~, but perhaps some small additional raiding sally. Tyrans trying their luck again, going the long way round? ~~Or perhaps you need an irregular soldier with nice blue eyes on a new assignment. Or, perhaps, not.~~ Still gallant, my girl? Definitely less, in my old age. I imagine Tobe is also chafing, and therefore insufferable. Goodness, it is difficult to entertain at a distance. I’m afraid I and what I know works don’t translate well. Still, take my hand as waveringly extended though these words, if you will, grasping where you want me best.

Your friend,  
Alanna.

P.S. Forgive the errata (thank you, Gary, for that entirely unneccecary addition to my vocabulary), there’s something about writing that...spills everything.

P. P. S. Raoul in a dress. Well, given the size of him, it became only a bit of a dress once he’d stood up.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kel, being honest to a fault.

  
Dear Alanna,

I don't know if it was your wishing, or just coincidence, but the past ten days have been opposite of the month before. It wasn't Tyrans, or warfare, just bandits: hillfolk, thinking the Bahzir aren't to be taken seriously, and – to my complete disgust – expecting the crown to look the other way when they raid and pillage. I'm sending a letter to General Wyldon about it, as this attitude in the locals does not speak well of the last man who had my post. It's a tangle, though, and those guilty of lesser offenses (thieving but not killing) will doubtless be appealing their sentences.

On the rest: I may have given you the wrong impression, earlier. I have no intention of leaving my post, ~~for romance ~~to have children or for any other reason. If I'm wistful, it's only because I wonder what my life would be if I had chosen another path. I didn't. I chose this. I do realize this makes the wondering a useless exercise, so I don't indulge in it often. But like you say, sometimes writing spills everything. I wonder why it's so?

In any case, I have someone to be proud of and worry after and look out for, in Tobe. To answer your question, he has not been chafing a bit, actually. I haven't needed him much, in a military sense, so he's been turned loose among the horses (ours, and those of the tribes that visit us), and couldn't be happier. Did you know this is the last season before his bond runs out? Daine's offered to teach him, come fall, and I expect them to get on famously.

Will it reassure you, if I say your letters are the best entertainment I've had here? There's so much of you that comes through the parchment, I feel as though we're back in Corus together. Though I will make a point of reading the next one ~~the first time~~ when I'm alone: the one before last made me laugh out loud, and this one – between thoughts of your hands grasping, and of Lord Raoul in a “bit of a dress” – made me blush. (Don't think I'm complaining, though. I find that I like it when you make me blush.)

I'm well and truly rambling, now, and probably saying too much. If I am, forgive me.

Yours,  
Kel


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honesty is a risky thing

  
Dear Kel,

I’ve always enjoyed making people blush—making you do has additional thrill, given you’re hardly the overawed sort. I enjoyed it even more in person, and it’s quite gratifying to be told I still have that effect now. And I like it when your letters are as long as the rest of you, whether that’s ‘rambling’, or not.

I trust you would not fall in with anyone who actually dragged away from your post (forgive my reading between your lines, just a little). I They wouldn’t know where to begin, to start, and I know what anyone who knows you should: that the rewards of having you with them would soon by outweighed by your unhappiness, which no one who loves you should ever provoke.

That’s two shoulds in one paragraph. Surely, a sign of madness.

I’m glad to hear these good things about your young bondscrap. Between you and Onua, and Daine he’ll have been mothered into the next life, but at least he’ll enjoy it. I think he might even be a match for Sarralyn.

Forgive me, my dear. It’s late and my eyes are tired and if I don’t get this to you in the morning then you won’t be seeing it for two months or more, so this is rather truncated (and fragmentary!) Still, it feels like a crime to surrender to such things as eyestrain and sleep when all we have are words.

Also know, Kel, that you can never say too much. Not to me.

Be well, and know I’m thinking of you.

A.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, risk pays off.

Dear Alanna,

Please do not strain your eyes on my behalf, for you might find that you need them later! I know of nothing to forgive you for (and that's courtesy, yes, but it's also truth – the two things are not as opposite as people seem inclined to think).

This letter will be brief, too. It turns out, the bandits I wrote you about have friends, who have taken offense to... well, cursed near everything, from what I can tell. We're more than occupied at present. A pity, that, for I was going to invite you for a visit. I hoped that this time, you might be the one to find someone you love, here. Perhaps I ought to cross out that last line – but you did tell me I can never say too much. For a change, I'll listen the first time.

Since words are all we have at present, I hope they will be enough (and that's hope, twice in one letter, which may be madness, too). If I manage to thrill you, even a little, I'll be pleased. If not, I'll ask you for understanding, until I have time to write properly.

With love,  
Kel


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alanna plays courier. Kit plays silly buggers with the format (her description, not mine. I would say, "Kit has a brilliant idea.")

  
_Dear Gary_

As you can see, my reports are done, and there isn’t much the archives need me for. I’m buggering off for a month or so. Somewhere warm. It’s important.

You’ll survive.  
A.

__.

A long ride, full of dust and cramps and the impatience of Moonlight’s long-time descendant, wishing his rider would sit more easily in the saddle, be less likely to clench reins and pull him on his way. River roads shifting into drying plains, greens bleeding out into fawns and moss and ochre-brown.

One day. Three days. A week, dust in her mouth and the slow build hope, full of bubbles and spikes.

Nine days. Easier, when she had been as young as the horse. Stops to stretch and sleep and loop a burnoose about her under bleaching sun.

Twelve days, and the bandits were there. A small skirmish, but in her way, and two children sunburnt and cowering in the midst of them all. They were not expecting an old, shrouded woman to hamstring them from the saddle. Much less to do it well. A new generation of the Bloody Hawk, and four Irregulars, made odds quite reasonable after a long ride in a desert afternoon.

Twelve days. Two-score limping bandits. Cheering soldiers and tribesmen.

“Yes, very well,” said the Lioness. “But I’ve other things to be doing.” She rummaged in her tunic, fetching out a battered, folded slip of paper. “Give this to your commander,” she said, her tribe scars plainly visible as clothing fell back. “_I_ am going to pour water over my head.”

.

_Keladry.  
I invited myself. Of course._

Love,

Alanna.


End file.
